He rode through the streets, going between pedestrians and hovering vehicles, taking in the sights. Waython Hollow was busier than he'd realized, markets lining the sidewalks, street vendors selling food and tech components, advertisements flickering on every surface.

It was alive in a way the wastelands never were.

After passing several blocks, something caught his eye.

A video game store.

Tatehan stopped the Dust Rider, staring at the storefront.

"What the fuck!, there's a video game store on Mars?"

It looked almost exactly like the arcades he remembered from Earth, neon signs, dark windows with glowing displays inside, the faint sound of electronic music spilling out onto the street.

He couldn't help himself.

He parked the bike and walked inside.

The interior was dimly lit, filled with rows of gaming stations. Teenagers and young men crowded around screens, controllers in hand, shouting and laughing as they played. The games ranged from action shooters to racing simulators to something that looked like a rhythm game with holographic notes.

Tatehan approached the counter and paid for an hour of playtime.

The attendant, a bored-looking kid with a datapad, gestured toward an empty station in the corner.

Tatehan sat down, picked up the controller, and selected a game.

It was an action title, some kind of high-speed combat game with mechs and explosions and way too many particle effects. The kind of game that required fast reflexes and precise timing.

Tatehan grinned.

Perfect.

He hit start, and the game launched.

Within minutes, he was fully immersed, his fingers flying over the joystick and buttons like he'd been playing for years. His heightened perception helped, made everything feel slower and more manageable when in places that'd make him lose. He dodged attacks, chained combos and racked up points.

Around him, some players glanced over, surprised by how well he was doing.

Tatehan didn't notice.

He was too focused on the screen, too caught up in the simple, stupid joy of just playing a game.

He leaned back in his chair, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Ahhhh," he said to no one in particular. "This is the life."

———

Tatehan returned to the Red Crest Clan base feeling like a kid again.

The sun had long since set, the Martian sky fading to a deep, star-scattered black. He'd spent hours in that video game shop far longer than he'd intended. What had started as a quick distraction had turned into the entire afternoon and well into the evening. He'd lost track of time, lost himself in the simple pleasure of games and competition.

It felt good and normal. Like he was just a regular person again, not someone about to lead an assault on a sky fortress.

He parked the Dust Rider in its usual spot near the entrance, the engine making it's usual sound softly as it powered down. A few guards were stationed by the gate, and they nodded at him as he passed.

"Evening boss," one of them said.

Tatehan blinked. Boss? Right. That was him now.

"Evening," he replied, returning the nod.

He made his way through the base, the corridors quiet at this late hour. Most of the soldiers were either asleep or preparing for tomorrow in their own ways.

He reached his quarters, stripped off his jacket, and collapsed onto the bed without bothering to change. Within minutes, exhaustion pulled him under.

The next morning came too quickly.

Tatehan woke to the sound of his alarm, a harsh, insistent beeping that dragged him out of a dreamless sleep. He groaned, silencing it with a slap of his hand, then sat up and rubbed his face.

Today was the day.

He did the usual bathing and brushing his teeth then dressed quickly, pulling on his combat gear and checking his inventory:

[Congratulations on killing the rhino like creature]

[Congratulations host on having money]

[Congratulations on opening a bank account]

[Congratulations on playing videogames and having fun]

[You have received knowledge points]

[You have received repair points]

[An ability has been upgraded]

[HOST STATUS]

Name: Tatehan

Level: 8

Species: Human (Enhanced)

Knowledge: 125/200 [+6]

Repair Points: 57/100 [2]

[ABILITIES]

• Gravity Manipulation - Level 8

• Regeneration (Partial) - Level 7 [NEW!]

• Enhanced Durability - Level 2

• Heightened perception - Level 4

[INVENTORY:]

[Shadow Goblin Cores: 56 total]

[Tri-Edge Shadow chakrams]

[Backpack]

[Armor]

[Novels]

[Shadow-Forged Blade]

[Kinetic Absorption Armor]

[Devastator Hand Cannon]

Tatehan smiled at the congratulations messages.

He checked his inventory:

Armor, weapons, cores, everything was in place.

He left his quarters and made his way to the commander's office.

Lyra was already there when he arrived, standing beside the commander and reviewing something on a holographic display. Both women looked up as he entered.

"Morning," Tatehan said.

"Morning," the commander replied. "Sleep well?"

"Well enough," Tatehan replied.

The commander gestured for him to join them at the display.

"We're going over the final roster," she said. "Forty-one soldiers now, including you and Lyra."

"Forty-two," Tatehan corrected.

Both women looked at him.

"I'm bringing someone else," Tatehan said. "Her name's Riven. She's a friend. Good fighter. And she has an ability that'll be useful."

The commander raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of ability?" she asked.

Tatehan chose his words carefully.

"She can predict things," he said. "Moments before they happen. It's like... foresight. She sees an attack coming a split second before it lands, and she can react accordingly."

He smiled slightly, keeping his expression neutral. Just like it had helped him win against Mub. The commander had no idea that Riven's ability had been the reason he'd been able to dodge Mub's devastating attacks and was a contribution (though not necessarily) to why he'd timed that final punch so perfectly.

She thought it had been all him.

And he was fine letting them keep thinking that.

The commander studied him for a moment, then her lips twitched into a faint smile.

"Oh," she said, her tone just slightly teasing. "Your girlfriend. She should help very well."

Tatehan blinked.

Lyra's head snapped toward him, surprise showing on her face. 'Oh, he has a girlfriend?' The thought was practically written on her expression.

"She's not my girlfriend," Tatehan said quickly, maybe a bit too quickly. "She's just someone, a friend, I met not long ago when I was traveling to save Lyra's life."

Lyra's gaze lingered on him for a moment, her eyes searching his face. Was she admiring him? Tatehan couldn't quite read her expression, but there was something there, curiosity, maybe. Interest.

He cleared his throat and looked away.

"She'll be here soon," he said. "I'll vouch for her."

The commander nodded.

"Fine," she said. "But she goes through the same briefing as everyone else."

"Understood," Tatehan said.

Riven arrived an hour later.

Tatehan met her at the entrance, and they exchanged quick greetings, nothing formal, just a nod and a grin. She looked ready, dressed in light combat armor with her explosive rifle slung over her back.

"You ready for this?" Tatehan asked.

Riven smirked.

"I guess," she said.

He led her through the base to the main briefing room, where the strike team was already assembled.

The room was large, filled with rows of soldiers standing in formation. Forty men and women, all in full combat gear, their faces serious and focused. Tatehan recognized a few of them from the practice drills—Torvan, the tech specialist; Mara, a scout with enhanced speed; Jax, a heavy weapons expert built like a tank.

Lyra stood at the front of the room, her posture military-perfect. The commander was beside her, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

Tatehan and Riven joined them at the front.

The commander stepped forward, her voice carrying across the room.

"Listen up," she said. "This is our final briefing. today, we launch the assault on the Obscuron's sky fortress. You all know what's at stake. If we fail, Waython Hollow falls. The surrounding cities fall. We all fall."

She paused, letting her words settle.

"But we're not going to fail," she continued. "Because we have a plan. And we have the best soldiers Mars has to offer."

She gestured to Tatehan.

"The new Battle commander Tatehan will lead the strike team. Listen to him. Follow his orders. And we'll bring that fortress down."

The soldiers nodded, their expressions grim but determined.

Tatehan stepped forward, his heart pounding.

"Alright," he said, his voice steady despite the nerves twisting in his gut. "Here's how this is going to work."

He pulled up the holographic display, showing the fortress rotating above them.

"We're sending tiny, almost invisible bombs to the fortress before we launch the full assault," he explained. "They'll be controlled remotely by our tech experts. The bombs will be planted at key structural weak points."

He highlighted the locations on the display.

"When we move in, the tech team will detonate the bombs. That'll destabilize the structure and give us an opening. Our job is to get in, secure the area, plant backup explosives if needed, and get out before the whole thing comes down."

He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of the soldiers.

"It's simple," he said. "But it's not easy. Stay sharp. Watch each other's backs. And we'll all make it home."

The soldiers nodded.

Tatehan began distributing the equipment, cores for the hovering boots, energy packs for the weapons and comm devices for coordination. He moved through the room methodically, checking each soldier's gear, making sure everything was in order.

When he was done, he stepped back and took a breath.

"Any questions?" he asked.

Silence…

"Good," Tatehan said. "Get some rest. We launch at dawn."

The soldiers dispersed, heading back to their quarters or the armory for final preparations.

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